Let it Go
by renata.celli
Summary: A look back in your relationship with Dean, through the years you've been together. This is a Dean x Reader story, I only marked it as OC for lack of better option. Hope you like it. Rated M for language and mention of sex.


**Author's Notes: As I said before, this is a DeanxReader story, so (Y/N) means your name and (y/n/n) means your nickname. This is my first fanfic ever published, so please be kind, ok? I will automatically love anyone who went to the trouble of reading it. One last thing, I am Brazilian, so if there is any English mistakes, please do forgive me. There you go, hope you enjoy it (** =

The first two years with Dean were easy, too easy, it seemed, sometimes. Obviously, there was the fact that both of you had pretty strong personalities, which more than once lead to a few fights, but nothing too tremendous or that couldn't be fixed quickly. After all, besides the strong character, you also shared a lot in common: taste in music, passion for alcohol, not to mention for sex, protective instinct and hunting.

There were also a lot of differences: you needed validation sometimes, and he walked around with that I don't give a fuck attitude of his, even though underneath you knew he cared; you were always smiling, and he looked mad most of the time, but you didn't mind that, even though you spent most of your time trying to make him laugh. However, when he smiled (specially the genuine, not the sarcastic one), it was like all the pain in the world would cease, and happiness would fill all hearts. At least that was the effect that it had on you, so all the wait was worth it.

You met in a bar, which was not surprising at all considering both of your routines and your idea of fun. You were hustling some guy at the pool and Dean soon realized that. You knew he knew, so you were worried that he would tell the other man, but he didn't. Instead, he just sat down on a stool, facing the table and watching the game, smiling all through it, which distracted you a lot since he was so goddamn gorgeous. When the game ended you had just beat the guy who was considered best in town, and he walked up to you, trying to look threatening. Dean stood up, worriedly, but you just stared back at the guy until he walked out of the bar. You looked at Dean, smiled, winked, took a shot and went home. You always got the impression that that was the moment he made you as a hunter, since you were a bit to fearless to someone of your size, so when he and his brother found you beheading a vampire the next day, he didn't looked surprised at all, he just smiled.

That night you both went to the bar together, along with his brother, Sam. The famous Winchesters, as you found out. Part of you wanted to kiss them both for stopping the ending of the world god knows how many times, while the other part wanted to kill them for almost ending it in the first place. But they were in two, and really big guys, so you didn't even tried to talk some sense into them or pick a fight. One of them maybe, with a lot of effort, you could handle, but both would be a bit too hard. Besides, let's face it, they were way too hot to die, and seemed decent enough.

They had also heard of you. Obviously, you haven't done anything as monumental as they did, but still, you were good at hunting, better than most at least.

After three or four months of occasional calls indicating hunts for each other, randomly meeting them (way more than ordinary, by the way), or just plain teasing one another, you were at yet another bar with the boys (shocker there), complaining about those shitty motels you've been the last months -you weren't very picky most of the times, but even though you were a hunter you had your limits, and they were being all crossed night after night with hooker sheets and used tubs- the boys offered you to settle into the bunker for some time. You blamed on their drinking, so you didn't really answer, saying you would think about it, knowing they would probably forget about this in the morning. Besides, your independence was one of the things that you proud yourself in, and all of a sudden going to live with two other hunters would certainly ruined it, wouldn't it?

But in the next morning, as you were packing you bags to leave the little motel you were in, Dean knocked on your door. You opened the door and said:

-Come in, Winchester.  
-Hey (y/n/n), so, are you moving to the bunker today or you rather do it on the weekend? – He said, sitting on your soon to be ex-bed.  
-Dean…  
-Come on, it will be fun, and you will have your own room, and we can mess with Sam together, which despite your denying, by the way, I know you love to do it as much as me. -You couldn't help but laugh at that, he was talking almost like a five year old, and it was adorable.  
-Dean, but do you really want me to do it? You and Sam already have your own routine, and I will probably mess it all up.  
-(Y/N), stop being afraid of bothering us, you already do it constantly, it's too damn late to correct it now, besides we asked you. Surprisingly enough, Sam and I have really low standards, lucky you, which mean you kind of grew on us.  
\- I knew that since day one, Winchester. Both about your low standards and your undying love for me - Dean smiled, but otherwise ignored your comment.  
-Come on, we both know that if you spent one more night at a motel you will probably kill yourself  
-That is true, but are you boys really sure?  
-Yes, Sammy keeps talking about how he is done with being the younger brother so he wants you to fill his shoes, and Cas keeps talking that he wants to get to know you.  
-Cas?  
-Yes, Cas, I've talked to you about him remember? The angel…  
-Yes, you told an angel about me?  
-Well… yes, why wouldn't I? -If you didn't know any better, you could swear you just made Dean Winchester blush.  
-That is fucking amazing, you just got yourself a pie.- And then he flashed you a smile that is, to this day, one of the biggest you ever saw on him, and that made a little bit too happy for your own good.

So you did it, you moved into the bunker. The truth is that you could have argued for days, but the result would always be the same. Dean had a way of making you do what he wanted, you just didn't seem able to say to deny him anything. When you told him that a few months later, he laughed, saying that he remembered a shitload of things on which you said no to him, but honestly, you doubt it, it simply wasn't true.

By the end of your second month living in the bunker, you grew a lot closer to the boys, almost became best friends with an angel and even were a little amused by the king of hell. But it was undeniable that you got closest to Dean. Needless to say that in all of those years you spent alone, you never imagined living with the boys, much less depending on them so much, or to have them depend just as much on you. In all honesty, you haven't hunted alone in at least two months, and you didn't even missed it. You knew the boys hated when you went all by yourself almost as much as you hated them going alone, so it was always you and Dean, or you and Sam, or the three of you together, hell, even four, when Cas showed up, not to mention the not-so-rare-occasions-as-it-should-be when Crowley also appeared.

During all of that time you spent with them, you found yourself slowly falling in love with Dean, and there was no point in denying or trying to ignore it. It was the truth, the deepest truth you have ever known, to be honest. And it hurt. A lot.

Not that he was mean to you, on the opposite, he was way too nice, which at the same time gave you hope but it also made him feel way out of your reach.  
Sam eventually realized it and he was kind of the one who pushed you two into each other. Dean, after the two of had finally gotten together, on one of those nights that you just lay together, staring at the darkness, your head at his chest and his hand on your waist, told you that he also was, at that time, hurting, seeing you so close, but at the same time so far from him, and that Sam also knew.

By the time the two of you started dating, you already loved each other so much that it just felt like it would never end. Part of you still thinks that way, you suppose. You were happy, simply, deeply happy. That doesn't mean that you were constantly smiling, or that you never felt the urge to just kill him. But you stood there and waited for the storm to pass, never once doubting that it was all worth it, that in the end of the day he would be holding you.  
When you went away for any reason, you were always anxious to get back home, you got out of the car running, rushing to open the door, to see Sam's or Cas's smile, to feel the comforting warmth of the bunker, to wrap yourself around Dean. It was home, a home that was so deeply carved within your heart that it felt like it was always there, and that it would always be there.  
The world almost ended once or twice during that time, but you didn't felt tired. If anything, you were invigorated to fix it, to make it better, just so you get to live in peace with the little family you have made for yourselves.

When those first two years ended, you and Dean were still crazy in love, but in a way you grew accustomed to each other. He would still kiss your forehead, but his arm wasn't as much around your shoulder as it used to be. You still had trouble sleeping without each other, but in some nights you slept each on each side. The fights weren't as passionate as they used to be, you just gave it time and you knew that it would figure itself out. The main problem was that that time in-between was always a little bit bigger than the last one.

You both realized it, and made a few topics that you needed to do in order to fix your relationship, but it didn't came naturally, it almost felt like an obligation. So when you went away, you didn't rush to come back. When you parked the car in front of the bunker, you would stay there for a little while, what you liked to call "me time". What you didn't see back then is that it wasn't so much a "me time" as a "no dean / no obligation" time. You loved him, you knew for a fact that you did, but it wasn't as urgent as it was back in the days. It was a comfortable way of loving him, and he was there with you as well. His smile when he looked at you wasn't as large as it was back when you started it all, but it still was completely affectionate, loving, even adoring. That phase, as you called it now, was not the main problem of your relationship, it may have been the start of it, but it wasn't so bad. The next one was.

In that time while you started drifting away from each other, you started drifting a little more each day. But the thing was you still loved each other, so it came a time when you needed him, but didn't know how to call for him. When all he wanted to do after coming back of an especially hard day was to hold you close, but when you saw him you gave him a quick kiss and went back to do what you were doing. Since none of you knew how to ask for each other, you started yelling, ordering.

Then it started the phase of the fights, when you just yelled at each other until one of you broke first and kiss, pull closer and undress the other. When you fought it was the only time you knew you could reach for him, because he showed that he missed you just as much as you missed him. It was the only time that he saw that he could still make you cry, that you still cared for him and for what he did. So even though it broke your hearts and it hurt more than you could possible explain, you still did it. And after that crazy fight that always made Sam leave "for a walk" and only come back in the next day, and the two of you having sex at least twice, you slept holding each other as close as you could possible manage, because you knew for a fact that in the morning you would stay distant of each other, at least until one of you started screaming again.

But as the time passed, and in this time as an opposite of your last phase, the need you felt for him didn't start to fade with time. If anything, you needed each other more than never, especially with all that shit that was happening in the world, so the fights became more and more constant, each time more and more vicious, with both of you stepping lower and lower to affect the other, because anything lighter than your worst was already numb from before.

You weren't as young anymore, so you didn't felt invincible, and you could keep your hands of each other, as long as you still had claws or teeth to hold. You weren't on that mature phase anymore, were you sat back and analyzed your problems calmly, considering what you should do next while holding each other's hands. And that "I still love you so much" phase, "I just don't need to demonstrate it at all times because you know it" wasn't there anymore, because with time you forgot it, and pain was the only way you found to remember it.

Every time you were not with him it hurt terribly. When you were with him, though, it killed you, and the situation itself had become unbearable. Soon you started to realize your old memories, the good ones, were giving place to nothing but resentment, and you refused to stand by it passively. You were so happy back then; everything always seemed to work out, almost like it had a meaning to it, like it was supposed to lead to something. You refused to admit it, but it felt like destiny. Yes. Ironic even, considering that both of you had always fought with absolutely all that you could to prove it to be a lie, to not be forced to do anything that you didn't wanted to do, to deny any type of higher power. And now your happy memories were being tinted, all that status of something (again, weirdly ironically) supernatural, magical, being removed from it. Not cut, which would be reasonably painless, but pulled out, with a great deal of sadism. So you did something about it, and now you were left with nothing but regret.

You broke it all off, and he was shocked, and you were shocked. And he cried, and you cried. And he said that die would hurt less, and at that you smiled, with tears rolling of your face and onto your lips, and said that it didn't count, because he died all the time anyway. But he didn't smile of that, he just shed another tear, begging you to reconsider it, so you went to him, hugged him as tightly as you could, and even now you remembered what you said then:

-Dean, there is no way of telling you how much I love you, which I do. I really do, with all my heart. But we are not happy anymore, and it is ruining our past, and we were so happy, weren't we? It was almost a fairy tale, not almost, it was. I will be forever grateful for our time, even if it is to be grateful to some random god of the indian tribe of the fucking Fiji islands, even if he or she or whatever knows all the shit that is happening in our world, all the pain, and just don't give a fuck, even though it is all powerful and shit. I swear I will suck my pride up and just say "thank you", but not for our relationship as it is, but for it as it was. Even though afterwards I will probably go to hell or something for trying to kill the motherfucker, and I also know that I will most certainly meet you there for doing the same damn thing. Weirdly enough that kind of comforts me.

And in that moment, he understood. So he smiled, and held you tightly, running his hand on your back in order to calm you down as you sobbed on his shirt, and you fell asleep in his arms.

By that time you felt like he knew you were right and that was the reason why he stopped arguing, but now you just think that he knew you _thought_ you were right, so he accepted it, and that was so damn Dean of him. The only thing you knew for sure was that you were wrong, terribly wrong. Any Dean at all was better than none. Any love at all was better than none -or rather, better than just the plain bitterness you felt now. And even now, three years after that night when you last saw Dean, you missed him all the time.

When you woke up the next morning, he was still asleep, so you quietly started packing your stuff. You still kept a different room with most of your things, since you and Dean had to share a closet were you two slept. So you picked up the little stuff you had there and went to your second room, as you had called every since you started dating him. Sammy was awake, and looked sadly at you when he saw what you were doing, even though he knew what was coming for a while now, so he helped you to take your boxes to your car, and when you were finally ready to leave your legs stopped responding, as realization hit your brain: you were leaving your home, your family, every-fucking-one you loved. Sam wiped the tears that were rolling down your face, kissed the top of your head and said "this will always be your home, always. I'll miss you so much", hugging you tightly.

You never felt home anywhere else ever since, so in a way, in the back of your mind, you still pretended you were coming back to the bunker any time now. It was like you were on a long road going there, but never reached quite your destiny. Probably because it was already behind you, stuck in your past.

 **Reviews are highly appreciated: even if you didn't like it, just let me know what you think. Thank you for reading it.**


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